Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/84



“ is an evil night to go, my sister, To the thorn-tree across the fairy rath, Will you not wait till Hallow Eve is over? For many are the dangers in your path!”

“I may not wait till Hallow Eve is over, I shall be there before the night is fled. For, brother, I am weary for my lover. And I must see him once, alive or dead.

“I've prayed to heaven, but it would not listen, I'll call thrice in the devil's name to-night, Be it a live man that shall come to hear me. Or but a corpse, all clad in snowy white.”

She had drawn on her silken hose and garter. Her crimson petticoat was kilted high. She trod her way amid the bog and brambles, Until the fairy-tree she stood near-by.

When first she cried the devil's name so loudly She listened, but she heard no sound at all; When twice she cried, she thought from out the darkness She heard the echo of a light footfall.

When last she cried her voice came in a whisper, She trembled in her loneliness and fright; Before her stood a shrouded, mighty figure, In sombre garments blacker than the night. Rh